A/N: The roll I mentioned being on in part three is officially over. The updates will most likely be less frequent in the future.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewing!

~*~

10 July

Okay.

I've just sent a letter to Dean. I rewrote it approximately fifteen times, but in the end I got so sick and tired of it all that I just sent away a letter without even reading it through. So I'm not really sure what I wrote. I'm hoping it was something moderately sane.

Unfortunately, Mum's opportunity-to-embarrass-your-kids radar was on, and she managed to read parts of the letter over my shoulder, which caused her to exclaim, "Oh my goodness, Ginny, are you writing to a boy?". I can't remember the last time I was so mortified. And of course Fred and George chose that precise moment to enter the room. Their obnoxious chants of "Ginny and Dean, sitting in a tree…" caused me to flee up here to my room, where I've spent the last half hour hiding from my insufferable kin.

I can't see why Mum was so shocked. I mean, she knows I've gone out with Michael, so catching me writing to a boy shouldn't be such a dreadful surprise. Then again, maybe she reckons I'm writing to another boy too soon after breaking up with Michael. She adored him, kept saying I should hold on to him and make sure he knew how I felt. Honestly, how could I do that when I didn't even know how I felt myself? It wasn't like he was the love of my life, I'm pretty sure of that. He was just fun to be around. Just like Dean's fun to be around. Why does everyone have to make such a big deal out of things?

I can't go downstairs for another hour or two. I still hear Fred and George laughing at regular intervals, so I'm pretty sure they haven't dropped the matter quite yet. Besides, I'll bet Mum thinks I'm a "scarlet woman", as she'd put it. She probably wants to have a Talk with me, something about the importance of young ladies remaining respectable no matter how great the temptation is. Ugh, the horror! She's been looking for a reason to have a talk like that with me for ages, and I've just given her the perfect opening.

Great. I just heard Fred and George laugh again, followed by two other male voices saying something, which resulted in even more laughter. I'll bet they've told everyone.

I swear, sometimes I loathe my whole family.

* * *

Hermione's here!

Yes, really!

Wow, I can't believe it. It was all so sudden – I was sitting up in my room, still thoroughly mortified, when I heard excited voices from downstairs. I suspected it was Fred and George marvelling at some new, dumb magic prank of theirs, so I decided to ignore it, but after a few minutes I heard Mum call, rather excitedly, "Ginny, get down here!" Discarding all suspicions that this was just a trick to get me to come downstairs so they could all laugh some more at me, I left my room and slowly walked down the stairs. And when I was on the bottom step, I found myself standing face to face with Hermione, who'd just come out of the kitchen.

I could do nothing but stare, with my mouth hanging open. I had so thoroughly not expected it, and I was more than a little shocked. I mean, why on earth would Hermione arrive without any notice?

But my state of utter perplexity only lasted for a couple of seconds, because then Hermione grinned widely, said "Hello, Ginny!" and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. And after that I could do little but be perfectly thrilled to have her there. Because, as I wrote yesterday, it's been too long since I've last been around any girls my age.

Ron's reaction to her arrival was kind of amusing. He entered the room just as Hermione was telling me about her trip here (which I will write about in a minute), and he stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted her. She said, "Hello, Ron!", and he just gaped, and his ears turned a violent shade of red, but then finally he managed to clear his throat and greet her properly. He did pretty well after that. Gave her a hug, even. And it wasn't a guyish half-hug, you know, one of those pat-on-the-back kind of things – no, it was a proper, two-arm, full body contact hug, and that just amazed me. I swear, there's something fishy going on between those two. Good-fishy, maybe, but fishy nonetheless.

Anyway, about Hermione's trip – apparently she's been in contact with Mum and Dad the past few weeks, although they haven't told us this, and they've been gradually planning how to bring her here. In the end they decided that Kingsley should Apparate to her house, help her get organised, and then they'd take the Knight Bus to Ottery St Catchpole.

I'm a bit miffed that Mum and Dad never told us they were making plans to bring Hermione here. That knowledge would've made the past few weeks of belonging to an outnumbered gender a lot more bearable. But I won't nurse resentment. She's here now, and that's all that matters.

I just came up here to write a quick "Hermione's here!"-note, and ended up writing almost three pages. Time to stop.

Bye for now.

* * *

Dinner was absolutely wonderful! And it was a lot thanks to Hermione. I mean, the percentage rise of females in the house isn't exactly mind-blowing, but it just felt so good having her there to talk to. Quite surprisingly, I also found that I'd really missed hearing her and Ron bicker about pointless things.

After we'd eaten, everyone helped with the washing up, and then we sat in the living room for a while. Everyone wanted to hear what Hermione had been up to, but she said she hadn't done very much, mainly just spent time with her parents and enjoyed the lovely weather. Then Dad – who's had time off from work and apparently hasn't been within close proximity of a Muggle in weeks – started bombarding her with questions about the situation in the Muggle community, and demanded to know everything about the latest, scientific discoveries. Thankfully, Ron saved her after about ten minutes and asked her if she wanted to play chess, and she looked extremely relieved. Or maybe she was just happy about the fact that she and Ron could get some time to themselves… They sat in a corner with their chessboard, so engaged in quiet conversation that they were hardly moving the pieces. Hehe.

Me, Fred and George sat on the sofa as the elder residents of the house (namely Mum, Dad, Remus, Moody and Percy (who, at nineteen, is physically young but has the mind of a fifty-year-old)) took a short walk, and the semi-elder ones (Bill, Charlie, Kingsley and Einar) sat in the kitchen, having an after-dinner-drink (which seemed to be highly entertaining, if you were to judge by the laughter that erupted from the kitchen every now and then). Fred and George were in a pleasant mood, and had – thank goodness – given up on taunting me about Dean. George was leafing through a book, which had been given to him by a customer of their shop. Apparently it was a combined wizard-slang-dictionary and a directory of the meaning of first names (interesting combination, I know). So we proceeded with looking up the names of everyone in the house.

Some of the meanings were really funny. Fred's name means "peace" (he clasped his hands together and adopted a saint-like expression when he heard this), George's means "farmer" (upon reading this he claimed that he'd always considered an agricultural career), Remus's name means "speedy", while Mum's means "the perfect one" (something which we decided on not telling her, regarding the possibilities of obnoxious remarks from her if she were to find out).

The only name we couldn't find was Einar's, so when he popped his head in to see what we were doing, we asked him what it's meaning was. He appeared to think for a moment, then he grinned widely and said, "It means big, fat Dungbomb!" before he disappeared again. I thought it was hilarious, but I heard Hermione mutter, "Honestly!". Maybe she wasn't as wrapped up in her conversation with Ron as I'd first thought…

Something that wasn't funny was when Fred and George discovered that my name – Virginia – means, unsurprisingly, "virgin". I could've done without their infuriating snickering. In the words of a dear friend of mine – honestly.

* * *

I'm in the bathroom, which may seem like a strange location to choose for writing, but I can't write in my room, since Hermione's in there, asleep, and I don't want to risk waking her up.

I spoke with her a few minutes ago. It was nice to finally have a serious talk with someone, even if the subject matters weren't exactly joyful.

She said she's really scared. I understand her. I mean, obviously, I can't possibly understand what this war is like for her, seeing as I'm not Muggle-born, but I know the fear that I'm feeling, and I'm assuming it's nothing compared to hers. Apparently, she hasn't told her parents about the war. She doesn't want to worry them. But the fact that she hasn't told them causes her to worry constantly, seeing as she knows they won't be prepared if anything should happen.

I asked her why the Order decided on bringing her here, and she answered that they'd thought it would be easier to keep her safe here than when she was surrounded by Muggles. Which means that the Order considers there to be a threat to her safety… A scary thought.

Although, evidently, mine and Ron's nagging had had some influence on the Order's decision as well.

I tried to refrain as long as possible from it, but in the end I couldn't stop myself from asking her about Harry. And guess what? She's been in contact with him! Apparently they've been sending letters almost every day to one another via the Muggle Postal System, or whatever it's called. I was so relieved when she told me he's okay. Well, physically okay, anyway. Hermione said that when she'd written something about Sirius, he hadn't answered for several days, and when he had answered, it'd been in an almost curt manner, so she hadn't mentioned Sirius again.

Oh, I wish we could just get to see him!

It was good to hear that he's alright, though. And I trust the Order to keep an eye on him. But if I won't get to meet him in person before school starts, then… well… I don't know. It wouldn't be good.

I'm gonna go back to bed now. I'm really tired.

Goodnight.

~*~

A/N: The meanings of the different names may not be entirely correct, seeing as every "name directory" or whatever you call it seems to state different meanings of the same names. But I went with these. Hope you don't mind.

Also, I'm a bit unsure about Percy's age, but I counted on it a bit and decided that nineteen seemed right enough.